


The other kind of teasing

by tehhumi



Series: B2MEM 2019 [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Nargothrond, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18354179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehhumi/pseuds/tehhumi
Summary: Some habits between siblings stick around.





	The other kind of teasing

**Author's Note:**

> Italics are puns on their names.   
> For the prompt Keep it in the family: N42 - Finrod/Orodreth

“You know, it’s your fault we’re here at all.”  
“Hmm?”  
“Everyone else was leaving. If we’d stayed, you’d have been crown prince of Tirion.”  
“I’m King of Nargothrond, why would I want to be a prince instead?”  
“In Tirion you can spend the night sleeping under the stars and not worry about getting killed by orcs.”  
“Our father is also in Tirion.”  
“So?”  
“Do you really think he’d approve of what we do?”  
“We wouldn’t have to tell him if we played it right.”  
“How exactly do you see that going, ‘Arafinwe your eldest and youngest sons are sharing a bed every night, but you shouldn’t freak out?’”  
“I’m clearly traumatized. No one here questions why I rely so closely on my dearest older brother after Tol Sirion fell. I witnessed my cousins massacring my other cousins at Alqualonde, and so I now put my trust only in my those closest to me.”  
“That sounds stupid. And kind of like the Feanorians.”  
“You’re the poet, you could put it in pretty words.”  
“We’re here now, and we don’t have to get anyone’s approval.” Finrod rolled over, giving up on sleep. “If I’m the poet, what are you?”  
“The latest in your string of scandalously young lovers, of course.”  
“Is this about Beor again? My interest in him was purely anthropological.”  
“Beor, and Andreth, and Barahir… You seem to have a thing for those young enough to be your children.”  
“What? Aegnor was in love with Andreth, and Barahir and I barely met - we didn't have time for anything if I wanted to.”  
“That’s not what they say in the taverns. And now your baby brother, nearly a hundred and fifty years your junior… I think you have a fetish.”  
“A fetish comprised of three false rumors and one secret affair?”  
“Exactly.”  
“Why do I put up with you?”  
“Because I have a great ass that you can’t resist _delving_ into, Felagund.”  
“No.”  
“What, you don’t want to _master my cave_?”  
“Get out.”  
“Would you rather I _climb_ you like a _mountain_?”  
“You are sleeping in your own bed tonight.”  
“But how am I supposed to caress your _exemplary hair_ from there?”  
“You’re not.”  
“Fine, fine. Even If I’m not _wise_ enough to understand why you like Beleriand, I’m _noble_ enough to leave a bedroom I’m not wanted in.” Orodreth leapt from the bed, barely avoiding Finrod’s swing with a pillow.


End file.
